Into the Tunnels
by catiecap
Summary: A Murder Under the Mistletoe changed ending fic! A bit of adventure, a bit of fluff, and a nightcap to end it all! One-shot.


_"__Let Constable Collins know we're going into the tunnels," DI Jack Robinson said._

The tunnels were dark, and stank of coal and metal, as Jack and Phryne went below. The sound of their shoes shuffling along the path sounded like screams in the eerily quiet underground.

Their flashlights shown over each tunnel path. "Oh, I forgot my hat," said Phryne, her hand reaching up to her black hair.

"Remembered your flask, but forgot your hat. I see you've got your priorities in order," Jack quipped, glancing at her fur-covered canteen of whiskey.

Phryne gave him a wry smile. "We have to stay hydrated, Jack!"

Jack turned down one tunnel, while Phryne went another way. "Stay close, Miss Fisher," said Jack.

They both wandered into an alcove of the tunnel. "This must be the new gold seam," said Phryne. Jack came over to look, and waved his flashlight over it. Phryne followed the gold seam a few steps, out of the alcove and along the tunnel wall.

Phryne felt an arm come quick and tight across her throat and roughly pull her backwards. Her hip flask fell to the ground with a thud.

"Miss Fish-?" Jack started to say, as he turned the corner and saw Nicholas with his arm around her throat and a gun pushed up to her temple.

Jack, without ever breaking eye contact with Nicholas, slowly pulled out his gun. "You won't get away with this."

Phryne felt Nicholas stiffen at the sight of Jack's gun, and she felt her toes barely scrape the floor. She pulled at his arm desperately reaching for a breath, but he held her too tight.

"Oh, I think I already have. Put it down. And kick it away," Nicholas growled, as he cocked the gun.

Jack put his hands up, and slowly bent to put the gun on the tunnel floor. His eyes skirted to Phryne, she looked both scared and determined.

As Jack's hand reached the floor, Phryne swung her legs out in front of her and quickly, and forcibly, swung them backwards and in between Nicholas' legs.

Nicholas howled in pain, and swung Phryne away from him. His gun went off harmlessly into the tunnel wall. She tried to scream as she fell, but nothing came out. Phryne crashed into the tunnel wall, and her body twisted and fell to the floor.

"PHRYNE!" Jack called, picking up his gun and shooting once at Nicholas, narrowly missing. Nicholas turned and ran, best he could.

Running over to Phryne, he gasped when he saw the gash on her head. She was sprawled out, eyes closed, bright blood dripping from her temple. Jack felt for a pulse, "Thank God," he sighed. He pulled out his handkerchief from his jacket pocket and pressed it to her wound. Jack bent over Phryne and, gently pushing her bangs aside, put his lips to her forehead, "Wait for me." And he dashed down the tunnel after Nicholas.

Jack switched off his flashlight, opting for the cover of the dark. He listened for any movement, and heard shuffling a few feet down the tunnel. Jack remembered the tunnel maps indicated a dead end, so the only way out of this tunnel would be to go back the way they came. Jack crouched, hidden in the shadows. As he heard Nicholas coming closer, towards Phryne, he stuck his leg out, tripping him. Jack tackled Nicholas as he tried to rise and stuck his gun under his chin, "You remember me, right? Detective-Inspector Jack Robinson." Nicholas grunted under the weight, as Jack clasped his hands in cuffs behind his back. As the Inspector righted Nicholas to standing, he heard more footsteps coming from the tunnel entrance.

Jack turned the corner, and saw Constable Collins crouched by Miss Fisher, still unconscious.

"Constable, take him upstairs. Have Mrs. Stanley assemble the guests in the parlor," Jack ordered, out of breath.

Hugh grabbed Nicholas and led him down the tunnel.

"Phryne? Oh God," Jack whispered, rubbing his thumb lightly across her cheek. Slowly, her eyes fluttered and started to open. "Phryne?" Jack asked again. Phryne frowned, and tried to sit up. "Easy, now," Jack urged, as he helped her into a sitting position. She reached for her head, and groaned. Phryne tried to speak, and remembering the chokehold, she cleared her throat a few times. All Phryne could get out in her raspy voice was, "Ohh, my head."

"Here, lean on me, and we'll get you some tea upstairs," Jack said, helping her up. Phryne was shaky, and felt like she couldn't quite trust her legs to do their job. She wrapped her arm around Jack's waist, quietly wondering how often he works out. Jack wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. Jack wondered when he stopped feeling uncomfortable being this close to her.

When they reached the house, Jack led Phryne to the couch in the sitting room, away from where the rest of the guests were gathered, listening to Nicholas justify his crimes.

Dot came over with a cup of warm tea, and Phryne smiled at her, and sipped eagerly from it. Dr. Mac came over, and took in Phryne's appearance: bloody handkerchief to her temple, sooty face and clothes, all color drained from her face.

"What happened?" Mac asked, her voice had taken on a clinical tone. As Jack relived the scene of the attack, she cleaned the head wound and bandaged it.

Hugh came over and announced that the Jamieson police had arrived. Jack nodded, and went to go meet them.

Handing Phryne a towel filled with ice for her head, she asked, "Do you feel dizzy or nauseas?" Phryne insisted she felt fine, and wanted to speak to the police. As she started to get up off the couch, Dr Mac warned, "Phryne, don't be rash. I know your head feels like a truck hit it. It's going to hurt a lot more if you don't stop and rest." Phryne waved her off, and went in search of the police, and maybe a whiskey.

As the sun set through the trees, the Jamieson police left with the guests' statements and Nicholas in custody. The guests went upstairs to rest before their journey home in the morning, and said goodnight to Phryne, Jack, and Mac who were still downstairs.

Jack looked across the coffee table at Phryne. Her eyes were sunken in and her black hair seemed stark against her unnaturally pale skin. He started to speak, but Dr Mac spoke up first. "Phryne, I've held my tongue for the rest of the evening, but now I insist. As your physician, you must rest. Now." Phryne smiled at her friend, and said, "Oh fine. I suppose you're right," and started to rise.

"Hold it. You have a concussion. I'm coming to check in on you in a few hours," Dr Mac warned.

"Oh, come now. Is that really necessary?" Phryne felt this was all a fuss. Jack watched from across the room, arms folded across his chest, a slight smile at his lips. She rose from the couch, and, indignant in showing everyone she was just fine, she started to walk quickly to the stairs.

The stairs took a sickening dive upwards and the room began to spin. Phryne collapsed to the floor.

"See, Phryne, I'm the doctor, I know what I'm talking about! Put your head between your knees." Mac started as she rushed over.

"Miss Fisher, are you all right?" Jack's face was only inches from hers. "Yes, yes…" her voice was muffled from following the doctor's orders. After a beat, she slowly looked up and sighed, "I guess you'd better help me upstairs, then, Jack!"

Jack held her hands and helped Phryne up off the floor. He put one hand around her waist and they started to slowly ascend the stairs. Phryne, feeling too proud to say, felt as if she would faint right there on the stairs, and longed for the comfort of bed.

"Oh, just carry her, Inspector! You'll be on the stairs till actual Christmas at that rate!" Dr yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

Jack and Phryne looked at each other, with the same tilted smile, as Jack scooped her up into his arms.

Phryne's room was at the top of the stairs, and Jack gently set her down on the bed. "Why thank you, Inspector," Phryne whispered, voice still raspy and thick with exhaustion.

"Sleep well, Miss Fisher," Jack nodded, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

When Jack turned around, he was surprised to see Mac in the hallway. "I thought you had gone to bed, Doctor," said Jack.

Mac handed him a bottle of whiskey and two tumblers, "Inspector, I think you'd better take the night shift for our Phryne; I'm just too exhausted." Mac winked and walked to bed, "Goodnight!"

It was quiet in the chalet, except for the occasional rattling windows due to the high winds outside. Jack crept out of his room, two tumblers of whiskey and a candle in his hands, and walked down the hallway to Phryne's room.

He knocked, "Miss Fisher?" the door was unlocked. He lifted the candle to see into the room, and found Phryne sound asleep. He walked over, and put the candle and whiskey on the nightstand. He lightly brushed her hair off her face as he whispered, "Phryne, wake up." She did not stir.

Jack spoke louder, "Phryne, wake up," as he shook her shoulder a little. Phryne's eyes opened, and she started to sit up with a jolt. This change in position made her head spin and she groaned as she laid back down.

"Jack? I wasn't expecting you," she said.

"I felt I was missing our post-investigation nightcap," he said, smiling, as he passed Phryne a glass.

She smiled, and patted the bed next to her. "Oh, Miss Fisher…" Jack started to say.

"Please, Jack, at least tonight, call me Phryne," she gave him a look that he could not ignore and he moved to sit beside her.

He turned to look at her. Jack cupped her face with his hand, "Phryne..." he trailed off. "Yes, Jack?" He smiled, leaned in and kissed her.

They didn't stop till the sun began to rise over the trees.


End file.
